


Though She be but Little, She is Fierce

by somethingcleverimsure



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Character Study, introspective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-10 03:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11118690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingcleverimsure/pseuds/somethingcleverimsure
Summary: A series of one shots that look into Christine's inner monologue.





	1. Our Doubts are Traitors

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I wanted to write more about Christine because she is one of my faves. This is going to be a pretty angst heavy piece. It's not necessarily going to be linear, but I'll say which chapters mess up the timeline. Story title and chapter titles are all Shakespeare quotes. I own nothing, and as always, constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!

Her heart was pounding in her chest, a steady da DA da DA da DA like iambic pentameter. It was drowning out her thoughts, until all she could focus on was her cue line. The world in front of the curtain didn’t exist anymore, all that she could see was the slight glimpse of stage that was visible beyond the wings. She was vaguely aware of her other cast mates backstage. There was an idle chatter, but her focus was on the show. That’s all that mattered right now. It didn’t matter that everyone had been acting so weird, Jeremy, Jake, Chloe, Brooke. If Christine could just be perfect on stage, then everything might turn out alright.  
Her palms started sweating, and suddenly her costume felt too heavy, too tight, too hot. She racked her brain for her lines, and her heart skipped a beat when she couldn’t remember her first line at the drop of a hat. Christine took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves to some degree. Although the first few moments before she made her entrance were always nerve wracking, it was her nerves that ignited the fire in her while she acted. When she was nervous, she became vulnerable to the audience, she put her heart on the stage, and every time she found new meaning in her lines.  
She took one final breath and prepared for Chloe to give her her cue, just on time. Christine took a step and was illuminated by the hot glow of stage lights. She could feel all eyes in the auditorium shift to her. She absentmindedly registered that there was a relatively good turn out for a school play. She rolled her shoulders back and lifted her head, hitting her mark. She spoke her lines as though it was as easy as breathing, every move she made was as natural as if it were real life. Christine swelled with pride, until she started to notice the rest of her scene partners.  
They were mechanic. Perfect. Not only were they perfect, they were perfect in a way Christine could never hope to be. Chloe and Brooke spoke perfect iambic pentameter, Mr. Reyes delivered every line exactly as Shakespeare would have wanted. Christine was suddenly aware of how very flawed her performance was, she had sacrificed inflection for emotion in some of her lines. She mentally chastised herself for a mistake a professional actress wouldn’t have to make. The watchful gaze of the audience that had given her confidence earlier now bore into her, scrutinizing every mistake she made.  
However, Christine lived and breathed by the phrase “The show must go on,” and so when Mr. Reyes’ character handed her the vial with the zombie serum, she took it- ignoring the slight tremor in her hand. She felt all eyes on her as she sipped from the vial. She opened her mouth to deliver her next line, but all that can come out is a horrifying scream as pain tears through her. She vaguely remembers hearing a voice in the back of her mind, though she can’t remember what it said. It isn’t until the pain stops, that she can clearly make out what it is saying. The voice schools her on what to say, removing every doubt, every fear, every vulnerability. Every line is flawless, her inflection is impeccable. And Christine finally feels perfect.


	2. Not in Single Spies, but in Battalions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after the events of the play

Christine was pissed. She wasn’t pissed at anyone in particular, but she was pissed. After the play had ended, and the SQUIP or whatever it was called got shut down, she was taken home by her mother, and went to her room, and glared at the ceiling.   
She knew it was wrong to be mad at Jeremy, he didn’t mean for this to happen to her, and he was in a much worse state than she was right now. Still, the thought that this had all happened because he wanted to go out with made her blood boil. She punched one of the pillows on her bed, letting out a strained grunt through her gritted teeth. Punching pillows wasn’t going to do any good.   
Christine sat down on her bed, grabbing the pillow she had just punched, and grasped it close to her chest. Finally she let the tears pour out of her eyes. She wasn’t mad at Jeremy,, she was frustrated with herself. She was frustrated that she didn’t even know what she was feeling until that thing got inside her brain and told her what she was feeling. She was hurt that she had been manipulated and controlled, and that she had been made to admit her feelings against her will. Yes the SQUIP had gotten rid of her hangups, but maybe she had those hangups for a good reason.   
She sat there, crying into her pillow, muffling her sobs so that her mother wouldn’t come check on her. Christine didn’t want to pretend she was okay to her mother, she was tired of pretending. She pretended a lot of things didn’t bother when she was dating Jake, she pretended that play rehearsal fixed all of her problems, she had pretended that she wasn’t into Jeremy. For the first time in Christine’s life, she just wanted to be herself, tears and all.   
After a while, Christine laid back, returning gaze to the ceiling, the tears on her face drying. She vaguely wondered what would happen at school on Monday. Would people even remember what happened? Would anyone talk about what happened? Who would be there and who would still be too bad off to come to school? As her heart beat returned to to the normal da DA da DA da DA, instead of the frantic mess it was earlier, she took a deep breath.   
There were many things Christine liked to believe she excelled in, acting being one of those things. But Christine did not excel in holding grudges, so as she sat there looking up at her ceiling, waiting for exhaustion to overtake her, she forgave Jeremy Heere for everything he had put her through tonight, whether or not it was his fault. And in forgiving him, she made a vow herself to offer him any support he might need, because Christine had only experienced a SQUIP for few minutes, but Jeremy had to hold that weight for weeks. She would act like nothing was wrong, even if she didn’t always feel that way, because that was the kind of person she was.   
So when she walked into school bright and early on Monday morning, wearing her brightest dress to match her brightest smile, no one questioned it. Her peers greeted her as if nothing had happened. And for a while, Christine could almost act as though nothing had happened at all, as though everything was fine. But there would always that voice in the back of her head, reminding her otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all of the angst, but I really wanted to write Christine's point of view of what happened after the play, and how she might cope with that. Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> With this chapter I really wanted to explore how nerves can be both a helpful and hurtful thing, and just how easy it can be that pressure to become too much. Again, I hope you liked it.


End file.
